It's a Gay Gay Gay Gay Gay World
by Crow T R0bot
Summary: In an all male world, Stan Marsh is dared into spending the night in Dr. Mephesto's abandoned lab to prove his dominance. Little does he realize, however, that he'll make a discovery that will change the world he knows forever.
1. The Dare

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park. It's the property of Comedy Central, Trey Parker, and Matt Stone.

I've noticed on and to a lesser extent that slash has surged over the years. I don't hold ill will towards slash writers, but it's kind of annoying for someone who prefers gen and het for these many fics of the slash genre to be around (It needs to be balanced). Nevertheless, I feel obligated to write this story because of it. I promise not to be particularly mean-spirited, just understand that this is all in good fun and not meant to insult anyone's tastes...much. This is a South Park fic after all.

Also, just a warning to those of you reading this, Kenny will be unusually Out-of-Character, but I promise to give an explanation in the future that I hope will prove satisfactory; In the meantime just play along, m'kay? There are a few other things you might find inconsistent in here, but rest assured, there will be explanations for them too. Plus one type of terminology that's normally restricted to anime and manga slash...You'll see.

And on a final note: biggest shout-out ever to Cerisa for co-writing this fic...and the majority of this particular chapter.

And on a final note, if you leave a review, don't put "MORE" or "UPDATE" or "CONTINUE" I want constructive feedback, even if it's in the form of criticism (though any sort of praise wouldn't hurt either of course), show me that you care about the story and whether I or Cerisa are writing well or not. Speaking of which, I've edited this chapter to include transitions that went missing.

Let the show begin...

XXXXXXXX

Purples transitioned from black, to purple, to red, and to blue as the sun peaked over the Colorado Rockies...glistening with a dull but pristine handsomeness. Even through the clouds and snow, it was an alert for life to begin stirring again for the next 16 hours.

At this moment, daybreak was taking its grip on the town of South Park, Colorado as its own inhabitants began to pour into the streets, trudging through another garden variety day.

As dawn gave way to daytime, the "trudging" transitioned to parading as the citizens of South Park came to life. Only the sleepiness they felt earlier held them back from their lively demeanor.

South Park was a lively mountain community, so it was no wonder its own citizens were so spunky. It reflected on their clothing too. Their collectives were a sea of primary colors cascading through the...Ah fuck this prose, let's get straight to the point!

Every man and "young adult" in town proceeded through South Park normally. Blissfully inattentive that certain types of people were missing...what we would think should logically take up half the town.

However, this didn't seem to play on their minds at all...especially the couple making out on a street bench.

"Thanks a lot Craig" said Tweek Tweak as he parted lips with his boyfriend. "That should get me through the test." He said as his twitchy nature subsided.

"Any time my little Coffee Break." Craig said with a prominent wink before looking down at his watch. His enchanted smile disappeared, however, with a slight frown.

"Not now though," Craig began, "We'll be late if we stop to do another one, and I can't afford to get into detention over something as retarded as being tardy."

"Awww..." Tweek said, slightly disenheartened. It didn't last long though... "Hey, we have all the time in the world don't we?"

Craig smiled... "All the time...so let's hop to it."

The two boys marched away as if nothing happened...and so did the men passing by...the few that bothered to look smiled at the young love.

'Where's the stigma?' One wonders. Surely even in a tolerant and progressive town such as this one such a thing would be accepted, but surely doing it so publicly would have at least drawn some uneasiness to passers by?

In the immortal words of Lex Luthor: WRONG!

No one in the world ever saw anything wrong with this. As far as they were concerned, it was perfectly natural. Sure, anyone with a brainstem knows that attraction of that magnitude between to men is "natural"... but not to the point where no one bats an eye at it, not at this day in age.

Nonetheless, the two boys joined hundreds of others as they marched on to South Park High School...the nexus of society for people their age.

In the hallowed halls of this institute, Stan Marsh struggled with the fact that his best friend, Kyle Broflovski, didn't have the same feelings for him...Mostly because of stuff like this...

"B-boy Howdy Stan, I reckon since Kyle's p-puttin' the moves on the Mole and w-wondered if you were free." Leopold Stotch inquired to the raven-haired boy.

"Oh don't get so buggered Butters old chum, he obviously has the eyes for me!" Pip said in an uncharacteristically forceful tone.

"Guys..." Stan said, his face to the locker, away from the competitive "ukes."

"W-why're you even after him anyway? Ain't Damien you're semefriend?"

"...He wasn't the most permissive seme I've met...word of advice, he's quite the bloody bastard."

"Guys I..." Stan began.

"And it's not like Kyle hasn't rebuffed you're advances."

"W-well Gee whiz Pip, the only reason he'll even talk to me is b-because the Mole and Kenny won't p-put out, what am I s'posed to do?" Butters answered and asked.

"Well I do believe you and Kenny might have something in common...try and see if you can't reach out to him...I know he's been a little skittish when the other boys tried courting but-."

"Could you guys carry on this conversation somewhere else?" Stan Marsh asked; the annoyance audible in his voice.

"Oh I'm so sorry we forgot about you Stan, good chum. I do believe we have gone into a tangent. Could we make it up to you by-..." He never finished.

"Leaving me the fuck alone, I'm trying to have some "me"-time!" Stan turned around, his annoyance now visible on his face as well as within his voice.

"Well shucks Stan, why didn't you say so?"

"Anything for you seme!" Pip said, pumping his arm for emphasis.

As the two blonds took their leave, chattering amongst themselves, Stan turned back to his locker. "Ukes.." he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

He didn't feel that using either of those terms was necessary, but it had been the general fad at South Park High..most likely started by someone with too much time on their hands (and an obsession for foreign terms).

"Seme" was used to describe the tougher, 'stronger' males, the 'manly men' faction of the students...or to put it bluntly, the ones who were always 'on top'. While the opposite half, the "uke" faction...was the reverse.

You were either one or the other, no buts, no in-betweens! Stan was relieved, however, to be considered a seme...

However, there were some boys that weren't easily identifiable as either. Case in point: Kenny McCormick, who in a neighboring hallway, was having his own share of problems...

"Come on, 'KEN-DOLL', you gotta stop playing 'hard to get' and put out _sometime_ now!" a gothic-looking boy sneered, as he pushed the other, squirming male up against a locker.

"N-no! don't!" Kenny shrieked, as he trembled, trying to break away.

"What is _wrong_ with you!? You've got a lot of hot tail around you, yet you refuse to take advantage of that! YOU REFUSE TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF ME!" the other snapped, as he moved in closer.

"I s-said GET OFF-" Kenny began, but was silenced by a pair of lips pressing against his, and a tongue shoving its way into his mouth, but only briefly.

"AAAAAAAARRRGH!" Kenny tore away from the attacker, screaming, as ran towards the end of the hall...

...Only to run straight into another boy and find himself impacting with the frigid tile floor. The gothic one wiped his mouth, smirking.

"You know, Kenny... I don't think you're a seme after all!" Kenny got to his feet, only to freeze in shock as he remembered the other boy standing there.

"Kenny, do you not want to play with me?" the geeky, curly-haired "Dougie" asked, his face sporting an eerily blank expression.

"P..p..please-" Kenny stammered, as he got up, still shaking all over.

"I want to play with you-" the boy continued, as he put a hand on Kenny's shoulder. Kenny's eyes bugged out, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"DON'T TOUUUCCH MEEEEE!". Kenny tore off around the corner, screaming some more. Suddenly, the bell began to ring, and Kenny's expression only got more ridiculously horrified as he got swallowed up into a crowd...one which only had _more_ horny young males.

"Sooo, Kenny, ya doing anything after class?" a filth-covered teen asked, the grime plastering his hair and skin clashing oddly with his preppy fashion sense. Kenny bit his lip, as he did his best to ignore. "Hey, Kenny, can't you hear meee? I'm talking to you-" the one known only as 'Dog-Poo' continued, grinning.

Kenny's lips quivered, as he tried to push through the crowd. He could've sworn that he felt someone grab his ass. "...Why ME?" he cried out, though the multitude of louder boys in the hallway drowned him out. Not that they'd care.

XXXXXXXXX

_"I said no!"_ A crack was heard, as a falling silhouette streaked across a wall. A heavy black boot crushed a cigarette into the tiled floor, as an older-looking male with wild, dark hair stomped off.

The boy who had fallen was struggling to get up. A dark, purplish bruise was swelling on the left side of his jaw line as his dark green eyes watered up. "D-damn it..." he whispered, trailing off as he winced from the pain. The empty hall that he was in began to fill up with students as well...

Meanwhile, in one of the many classrooms, Stan Marsh sat at his desk, bored out of his skull. The teacher was busy droning on about a mathematics equation, while he tapped at the chalkboard with a piece of chalk. "Huh...could've sworn we had a different teacher..." Stan thought, as he sunk in his seat a bit, and closed his eyes.

"_Psst_!" Stan turned around slowly, to face Butters.

"...What now?" Stan asked tiredly. Butters held up a pink piece of "Hello Kitty" stationary that was folded up.

"Can you pass this on!?" Butters asked, grinning widely.

Stan's left eye twitched a bit. "Can't you just throw it?" he replied, turning back around. Butters blinked, but shrugged and began folding the stationary into an airplane-shape.

"Hey, Pip! Catch this!" he cried, as he threw the airplane across the classroom. Pip sat up in his seat, ready to catch it...only for another hand to beat him to it.

"HA! Let _me _see!" an overweight brunette snickered, as he began unfolding the note.

"H-hey, that's not _fair_, Eric!" Butters cried. Eric Cartman turned in his seat to face Butters, his tight red vinyl pants clashing with his pink satin blouse, that was unbuttoned at the top and exposing his flabby, hairless chest and 'moobs'.

"It is to _me_!" he shot back, grinning evilly as he began reading the contents of the note out, much to Pip and Butters' embarrassment. Stan yawned in boredom, only for a piece of chalk to hit him right in the head. "OWW!"

"Staannley Marsh! _Pay attention_!" the teacher yelled, as Stan rubbed at his head.

"Pssh..you'll have to excuse Stan! He's too busy worrying about how he'd get into Kyle's pants!" Cartman smirked as he leaned back in his seat. Stan glared at Cartman. He had to deal with this ALL the time.

"Leave your planning for your sex life for in between classes!" the teacher snapped, as he turned back to face the chalkboard. He momentarily turned back to face the class. "..And for the love of _God_, always carry some spare lube on you! You know how painful things get when it's rough-".

Murmurs of agreement were heard from some. Butters, however, looked confused. "Hey..wh-what's lube again?" he asked the student next to him, who only turned away in response.

Kenny sat at the back of the classroom, the hood of his parka drawn tight, grinding the lead of his pencil into his paper roughly; writing down an equation. Suddenly, he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He broke out into a cold sweat, as his pupils contracted.

"Hey Kenny, can I borrow your pen-" the boy behind him began, only for Kenny to quickly turn around in his seat.

"NO! _Don't come near me_!" Kenny shrieked. As Kenny went to turn back around, he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

"Looks like you scared him, Clyde..." one of the students whispered. Clyde simply shrugged, and reached over to grab Kenny's pencil.

Suddenly, the classroom door slid open. Stan looked up, as another boy entered. One that was all too familiar to him...

The teacher glared, as he looked over. "You're _late_, Kyle..." The red-haired boy sighed, as he rubbed at the bruise on his jaw.

"I know...I had an accident..."

XXXXXXXXX

"I just don't get it!" Kyle sat down, frustrated, as he held an icepack up to his jaw. Stan shrugged, as he stood by a window, looking down at the school grounds. The two teenagers were in the library, though they weren't alone.

"Hey, check this out!" Clyde pulled out a magazine from his backpack, as Craig, Token, and Jimmy came over to look.

"Hey, is that the new one?" Token asked, grinning.

"Yeah, believe it, it's hot. Uh...you'll like it, I think!" Clyde said as he opened the magazine up, and spread the centerfold out. A few other boys gathered around.

Stan turned away from the window. "So...what exactly happened between you and him again?" he asked Kyle, who was pressing the icepack harder.

"I don't even know _why_ I bothered with him. I just...have the worst luck when it comes to 'pairing up'. Practically everyone is taken-" he grimaced. Stan sighed a bit. Kyle continued, his eyes narrowing. "There's _no_ way I'm going with one of the 'Melvins'. I already have a bad reputation as an 'uke'-..." he made quotation marks with his fingers, "-as it is. Pairing up with one of them _wouldn't_ make me a 'seme', it'd just mean I'm desperate. _You_ wouldn't go with one of them, would you?"

Stan gave him an odd look. "No...I wouldn't..." he replied.

"Of course, why should I care?" Kyle asked, continuing on.

"Don't ask me..." Stan shrugged, as he sat down.

"That was a _rhetorical _question..." Kyle said flatly.

"Oh..."

"It doesn't help that when I _do_ find someone who that's not 'taken', that they refuse...by punching me out-" Kyle motioned to the bruise.

"...'kay. Does he always do that?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no...the other times, he just shoves me away, calls me a 'freak', just walks on ignoring me, or makes a face. I...don't think he's interested, Stan...you don't think _he_ could be taken?" The Jew inquired.

"...Maybe..." Stan answered, looking up at the ceiling.

"But I never see him with anyone...it's like he's off in his _own_ world..." Kyle trailed off, as he thought about what happened earlier that morning.

_XXXXXXXXX_

_He had been walking down the hallway, after going through his locker when he spotted a tall, tanned, and slightly older, more 'mature'-looking boy at the other end. He had short, wild dark brown hair, heavy bags underneath his narrowed dark eyes, and sharp features. A cigarette hung from his mouth. _

"Hey, Christophe!" Kyle called, as he made his way towards the taller boy. Christophe only grunted, as he glared at Kyle. "I haven't seen you in a while...what happened?" Kyle asked, as he stepped closer.

"...Why do you care_?" Christophe muttered, as he took a drag off of his cigarette, and blew smoke in the smaller boy's face. Kyle coughed, as he scrunched his face up. _

"I just was wondering...you seem to just come and go..." Kyle explained; the smoke stinging at his eyes. Christophe only glared. Kyle blushed, as he continued. "You know, if you aren't doing anything, maybe you could-"

"-No..." Christophe interrupted with a calm, cold demeanor, as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth.

_"But I-" Kyle began again. _

_"-No..." Christophe repeated, as he pushed past Kyle, dropping the cigarette. _

_"But wait, Christophe, you won't even let me fini-..."_

_"_I said no_!" Christophe yelled, as he swung a fist out. A crack was heard, as the fist connected with Kyle's face, and he fell backwards, hitting the floor roughly. Christophe barely looked at Kyle, as he crushed his dropped cigarette beneath his boot, putting it out. Kyle could only watch him leave, as he struggled to get up._

XXXXXXXXX

Kyle sighed, as he snapped back to reality. Stan was looking at him once more. "And what about-...?"

"-I didn't bother with Kenny _this _time" Kyle cut in. Stan shrugged.

"Guess Kenny's off in his own world too, huh?"

"Yeah...that's what it seems like..."

"I don't get what his problem is..."

"Do you think Christophe and Kenny are-..."

The two boys paused for a bit.

"You know..." Stan began, "...that would kind of make sense!" Kyle nodded, but then looked puzzled. "But wait...if they're together, Stan...who's the 'seme' and who's the 'uke'?" he asked.

"Has to be Christophe." Stan replied.

"Don't you think that'd be _too _obvious?"

"Well, you know how rough he is-"

"-Thanks for reminding me."

"But then...we don't know what _Kenny_ is to begin with...so..."

"This is...awkward."

"You really think so? You asked the question!"

As this was going on, Clyde and the other boys were finishing up staring at the magazine. "T-th-that i-i-i-is so...so...s-so...ho...h...hot!" Jimmy stuttered out, as the other three nodded.

"You think they make 'em like that in South Park?" Clyde asked. "They make them _fine_ in South Park!" Craig answered smugly, as he motioned to Tweek.

Pictured in the centerfold was a picture of an obviously naked young man with chin-length blonde hair, having his neck bitten by a red-haired male.

"Niiiiiccee..." the boys murmured.

The final bell rang out, signaling the end of the school day. Stan and Kyle moved along with the rest of the crowd, as they exited the school. Kenny did his best to stay at the back of the crowd, where he was sure that no one would be able to try and get a free grope on him.

Cartman, meanwhile, was shoving his way through the crowd, wearing a red jacket over his pink satin blouse that had the slogan "SEME-TASTIC" emblazoned on the back. "AY! Move the hell out of my way Ass-Ramee!" he yelled, as he pushed Tweek out of the way.

"H-hey!" Tweek cried.

"Don't you call my Coffee Break that, Fattycakes!" Craig yelled, as he held on to Tweek defensively, and flipped Cartman off.

"I'll call him whatever I want! I am more _seme _than you know, Craig!" Cartman snapped back, as he ran a finger down the seat of his vinyl pants.

"OH? Is that why your fashion sense is more like an _uke_!?" Craig shouted out. The other boys all burst out laughing. Cartman flushed red.

"A SEME CAN HAVE STYLE!" he screamed, as the others continued laughing. "My GRANDPA was a seme, and my dad was half-seme, so I'm definitely-"

"-A QUARTER seme?" Stan interrupted.

"AY! THAT'S SEME ENOUGH!" Cartman bellowed. "If you have a dad, how come we never see him?" Kyle asked. "I...I have one, damn it! Where else would I get my semeness from!?" Cartman stammered.

"Face it! Everyone knows I'M the 'alpha seme' here!" Craig smirked. "Isn't that right, Tweek?" he asked his ukefriend, who nodded.

"I don't think so!" Kyle spoke up. Craig glared at him, as did a few other boys.

"Oh really, what does an _uke_ have to say about that?" Craig quipped.

"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Cartman yelled. Craig turned to glare at Cartman, and then turned back to face Kyle.

"I'm saying that..that there's a _greater_ seme than either of you at this school!" Kyle spat out.

Christophe stood a few feet away, hidden in the crowd. "What the hell's he thinking..?" he whispered.

"Oh yeah, who?" Clyde and Token asked, glaring.

"The answer should be obvious!" Kyle yelled, as he clenched his fists. Stan looked around at the other boys in the crowd, and then at Kyle. He wasn't going to miss his chance.

"That's right!" Stan said, as he came forward. "I...I'm the one he's referring to!" Gasps were heard throughout the crowd, and Kyle stared at Stan, baffled.

"Stan, what are you-?"

"I am SO seme! I...I'm as seme as they come!" Stan blurted out.

"Oh _really_?" Craig asked sarcastically, as he stepped forward. "Why don't we fight it out then, Stan?" he continued, as he got close to the raven-haired boy.

"You say you're a seme, but you're so spineless and a pushover! Not like our Craig!" one boy ranted.

"He's scared of _snakes_! How uke!" another boy snickered.

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, as he groaned. "Look...we can go ahead and fight it out right here and see who's the biggest seme of them all, Craig! Whatever...I don't care."

"Hmm..." Craig stroked his chin.

There was silence as the other boys stared. Kyle looked over at Stan, who was looking somewhat bored. "Why'd he have to do that?" Kyle thought, as Craig looked up, with a devious grin.

"I got it!" he spoke up. "I've got just the right challenge for you, Stan..."

"Really!?" Kyle shrieked. "You do?" Stan asked at the same time.

"It's not a _fight_, it's a _dare_!"

"Dare...?"

Craig turned to face Stan. "Stan...if you want to prove that you're _really_ the biggest seme of us all, you're gonna _spend the night_...at Mephesto's Lab!"

"What!?"

The other boys gasped.

"What? Too chicken? Or too _uke_?" Craig sneered.

"Isn't that place abandoned?"

"That's the _fun_ of it." Craig sneered.

"..."

"So _seme_, what's it going to be then?" Craig asked.

"..."

The other boys stared, as Craig waited, with his arms crossed.

"...I'll do it!" Stan said.

"Cool! 'cause you're going to spend the night theretonight_!"_

"Wait, WHAT?" Stan yelped?

"That's what you agreed to!" Craig affirmed.

"I didn't think you meant tonigh-"

"What else did you think I meant?" Craig interrogated.

Stan glared. "Look, Craig, I can handle this...believe me, I can."

"Oh, we'll see about that!" Craig snorted.

XXXXXXXXXX

Later that night, Stan and a few other boys stood outside a pair of old, rusted, creaky gates. "This is it..." Craig said, as he pointed out a laboratory building that was rather decrepit, and looked like it had been abandoned for some time. The gates had been recently pried apart, though.

Stan sighed. "Okay, I get it. I'm spending the night there-"

"Damn straight. And you _better_ not chicken out..'cause we'll know..." Craig hissed.

The group of boys dispersed, a few of them laughing amongst themselves as they walked off.

Stan was silent, as he stared out at the lab.

"Stan..." Kyle came forward.

"What?"

"You...you didn't have to do that, you know..."

"Come on Kyle, the lab can't be _that_ bad. I'm going to spend the night there, and that's it-"

"-That's..not what I meant-" The Jewish uke interrupted.

"What are you saying?" Stan asked.

"N...never mind. Good luck in there, okay?"

Kyle walked off, sighing. Stan took a deep breath, as he began walking down the path towards the lab. It couldn't be that bad, right?

Little did he know, it would only be the start of something else...


	2. Big Gay Stan's Big Gay Discovery

Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, Trey Parker and Matt Stone, and their bosses at Comedy Central, do.

While our reviews are mixed, it's better than no feedback at all. I will take all of your comments and criticisms in mind when I write this chapter...and if I didn't, I accept full responsibility. Thanks for being constructive in your criticism.

**Chapter 2**

The Darkness that marked the inside of the building parted with an intolerable creak. The noise it produced was so loud that the one causing it: Stan Marsh hesitated to open it any further. With one more boost, the teenager pushed hard and thought he heard the hinges crack as the door gave way.

"It's like this lab is trying too hard to scare me." The boy muttered as he surveyed his blackened surroundings.

Indeed it was trying too hard. Fake skeletons hung from nooses and skeletons of caged creatures sat haphazardly throughout the lab, long forgotten in the derelict laboratory. There were even clichéd Halloween decorations all over the place.

Stan investigated the cages first. The only bone pile he paid any attention to was a small monkey…he thought he saw several deformities in the back of its pelvic bone. Not knowing what to make of it, the raven-haired boy trudged on, ill at ease already.

"Keep yourself together Stan," he muttered. "You're a seme, that's why you're here!"

He then shivered, at first embarrassed of himself that he felt spooked, but then realized that it was actually that the air inside was cooling.

He looked to the door and hesitated. He was letting the cold air in and would surely freeze to death if it wasn't shut. On the other hand, it was his biggest light source, not to mention an escape route that might be necessary...should a fire break out or something of course.

Assured that a semely seme would be able to escape even with the doors shut, he pushed the double doors shut with yet another chilling screech of decrepit hinges.

"I swear if I hear that one more time..."

No sooner than he had complained did the hinge suddenly break. Stan found himself diving out of the way as the "shut" door fell out of its frame with a _SCREEEECH!!!!_

It ended in an unceremonious CLANG as dust exploded from the floor it fell on.

"Note to self," Stan noted "Don't touch squeaky stuff."

With that warning in mind, Stan ventured back into the direction of the cages.

"Damn it Kyle, I know you're my best friend, but I thought you were smarter than me!" The boy complained to no one. "You would have been the laughingstock of the school if you called yourself a seme. Of all the things I could have bailed you out of, it had to be that! Now I'm going to be sleeping in this spooky lab when it's ten below outside!"

He sighed.

"Well, I suppose I could find kindling, it's not like this place is giant matchbox anyway." Stan muttered as he surveyed the mostly concrete and metal surroundings of the building.

While he had covered a great distance from the entrance, Stan still found the light was adequate for his vision.

He paid no mind to the _click, click, click _of his shoes against the concrete, passing neglected and dust covered tables covered with more dust covered flasks and beakers with the dust itself covered in a fine coat of dust.

The lab was a very dusty place.

Stan couldn't help but wonder what Dr. Mephesto was like. What could cause such an eccentric geneticist to abandon such an advanced lab? There was so much that scientists could discover, cures for cancer and AIDS, the flu, how many licks it would take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop.

Yet with all that equipment at his disposal, the mysterious doctor vanished, along with any future for his Tootsie-Pop research.

Stan shrugged. He never recalled meeting the guy, why would he care what he was up to with his time?

He found out when a rancid smell lured him to a small pen at the end of a laboratory. Looking inside, he couldn't help but notice a slice of moldy provolone cheese with squirrel body parts-long since rotted and gangrenous-lying on the cage floor. Stan could only surmise that the creature met its end thanks to the ensuing negligence.

The seemingly innocuous observation made Stan think again. Why would a scientist leave all his lab animals for dead? Wouldn't police investigating his disappearance find them and do something about it?

Stan gulped. That was the opening scene for a horror movie right there.

However, the common sense deep in his subconscious prevented him from turning around and leaving...

...Allowing him to bump into a rather flat looking bookcase.

"Ow!" Stan said as his head made contact with the out of place furnishing.

He looked up just in time to see the "bookcase." In reality, it was a cardboard cutout with hastily made crayon and marker drawings showing disproportionately sized books on black line "shelves."

Stan noticed the way it seemed to flex inward, deeper than the wall would allow.

To make sure he was not seeing things, Stan pushed on the faux bookcase once more. Once again, the cardboard indented.

Someone had to put this here, but why something with so little Feng-Shui? This tacky barricade couldn't contain even the weakest baby if it worked hard enough, so why put it over this passage?

Someone didn't want him to find something...but didn't care that much if he did.

So Stan Marsh decided it was okay to take advantage of that apathy.

CRUNCH!

A single thrust of his forearm put a fist sized hole in the cardboard. Now assured that he had some strength to back up his "semely" claims, he tore it out and repeated, tearing through the corrugated paper like...cardboard.

When "hole-punching" proved too bothersome, Stan took a deep breath and backed up. Years of football practice had given him the upper-body strength necessary for this charge.

"CHAAAAAAARGE!" Stan screamed to no one in particular.

With a resounding tear, a man-sized whole exploded into the next room, its cause coming with it. Stan nearly toppled when he stopped, struggling only for a second to regain his bearings before erecting his stance.

The temperature on the other side of the barrier seemed to drop 20 degrees. This was noticeable even in Stan's winter clothing. It was still a decent 50 inside, but nevertheless, such a sharp drop in heat was hard to miss.

The floor seemed to shift from dull-concrete to white...mist drifted across the floor, but from where?

Stan only needed to look up, a metal-framed door covered in frosted over glass. A single rod-like handle was the only thing that projected from the frame.

"I wonder where this leads?" Stan wondered as he reached for the handle, ignoring the bright red stenciled capital letters that read "CRYOGENIC TESTING" in all capital letters.

Stan then slid his fingers around the cold, smooth shaft and pulled; meeting stiff resistance...one more phallic joke later, Stan noticed a small set of similarly stenciled letters immediately above the handle.

"PUSH"

'_I must really be out of it.'_ Stan thought sheepishly before following the command.

The door proved heavy, but it slid open, Stan felt a gush of even more chilled air rush at him. He almost thought he stepped back outdoors, but nonetheless...

"Wow," Stan remarked as his head shifted around to view the sight beyond. "There's a whole other room behind this door!"

Sure enough, a room the size of his school classroom lay beyond the door. It was an ill-lit room with a handful of red lights dotting the upper walls. White mist covered the floor up to Stan's knee caps, but didn't seem to conceal anything important. There was also a dark shape at the opposite end of the room. Stan couldn't make it out from here, but it seemed neither alive nor moving.

Stan trudged into the room, circling the frosty perimeter and wrapping his arms around his chest. It was just that cold.

The young man turned his eyes to the wall, looking at frozen over but ostensibly waterproofed computer consoles and monitors. None of the screens were lit, but if the dots of glowing red were any indication, they were on standby.

_What are they standing by for?_ Stan wondered, looking for any clues in the room...Not those kinds of clues you perverts!

He finally turned to face the much closer mass he saw at the end of the room earlier. At this proximity, he could make out a cylindrical, light brown frame covered in frost. It was resting horizontally in a metallic "bed" perched behind a small computer stand with a large-key keyboard. Either whoever was using this was hard of sight, or the designer just didn't want to inconvenience the user.

Stan rounded the cylinder, unsure of what to make of it. The top was clearly a glass cover meant to see the subject within, but that was negated by the thick film of ice blurring the thing within...Assuming there was something in there. Truth be told, the tube could have been empty for all Stan knew. The light in the room was inadequate to see anything.

Stan wanted to let things be. But before he knew it, a gut feeling insisted that he look.

He stalked slowly to the capsule until he was by its side. With a minute of hesitation, Stan reached out to touch the glass.

Predictably, the freeze of the inside of the capsule jumped into Stan's glove hand. He managed to touch it just long enough to sweep away the uppermost layer of ice before the cold became painful.

Stan was always a reasonable person, so it was predictable that he realized it would be a good idea _not_ to wipe the ice again.

Pinching his nose and leaning against the computer console for balance, Stan didn't notice his free hand push a large red button on the console.

"I suppose I should see what else is in h-..." Stan was interrupted when a flash of small, white lights clicked to life around the capsule.

"_Reanimation sequence initiated. Please press-..."_ This mechanized voice startled Stan. He jumped and nearly slipped, slamming more buttons on the console.

"_Room temperature increase initiated, please activate failsafes at console B."_ the voice ordered.

Stan stumbled away from the controls, the apprehension in his stomach and throat growing exponentially.

"_Okay...just back out of the room, maybe if I leave everything alone, it'll just reset its-..."_

Stan's thoughts were interrupted when his butt backed into a computer console and he lost his balance, falling into a sitting position.

"_Failsafes activated. Please return to cryogenic control to initiate thawing."_ The voice commanded.

"Holy shit dude!" Stan said as he tried to stand up. Unfortunately, the heaters under the floor were already beginning to thaw the frost, so when Stan tried to get back into a standing position, coupled by his own frantic attempts to get out of Dodge, well.

"W-w-wh-oa!" Stan said as he fumbled across the floor, barely standing. He tried to step forward to maintain his balance, but alas it was a constant struggle.

When he realized he couldn't stay standing anymore, he pulled his arms out in front of him and shut his eyes to brace himself for the inevitable fall.

The anticipated slam against the floor never came. Stan squinted his eyes open to find he had braced himself against the cryopod's controls once again.

"Whew" Stan said as he regained enough of his composure to wipe non-existent sweat from his brow.

However, when he saw _where _on the console his hand landed, his face twisted in fear.

"_Thaw initiated. Reanimation sequence engaged. Please wait."_ The computer voice announced.

Stan looked disbelievingly at the speakers in the corners. Not for too long though, as he saw still chilly water slide off the glass as the capsule and the room it was in warmed around him.

It was only five seconds before fountains of steam sprayed out of ten holes on the side of the capsule's window, five per side. Stan couldn't watch in horror as the blue filling in the capsule brightened and churned, draining from the pod in just twenty-five seconds...

"_Phase one complete." _The computerized voice announced_ "Phase two..."_

The inside of the capsule was suddenly lit with a pinkish-red glow. Stan instinctively stepped back, not sure that he wanted to see what was in there.

The glass panel suddenly began to revolve open, sliding into the sides of the cryopod and unleashing whatever was inside.

Nothing came out.

Stan was overcome with relief, but suddenly that tugging instinct tugged at him again. It seemed like an invisible force was commanding his legs to carry him back to the pod, despite the fact that all the other instincts in his body screamed at him to run away. He agreed with them, but his body didn't.

Even though the room temperature had shot up forty degrees, Stan shivered uncontrollably, the attack becoming worse as his inquisitive person closed the distance between himself and the Cryopod.

He briefly clenched his eyes shut, thinking that if he didn't see what was in there; it wouldn't attack him.

However, when he felt himself bump into the familiar metal, he knew it was futile.

His eyes, filled with tears from being clenched shut, opened to reveal a slightly blurry world...and the pod's contents.

What he saw sent a jolt down his spine.

Lying absolutely limp, and in a funerary position was a man almost, if not, just his size, completely naked and soaking wet from whatever thawed out fluids it had been resting in for God knows how long.

However, that's not what Stan found shocking.

The man's body was unusually built, much more curvy and slender than Stan thought possible. His hair seemed long, black, and flowing, way too silky to be real.

Furthermore, two conspicuous bulges stuck out of his chest, forming vaguely dome-like growths. Stan noted with apprehension that they were gradually rising and falling. He was breathing.

However, Stan's attention was drawn to the other end of the capsule at the bottom of his torso.

Stan gasped when he noticed the most inexplicable deformity of all right between the man's legs.

There was no penis...no balls...nothing.

He yelped as he backed away from the pod, eyes wide and a cold sweat breaking out all over his body as he lost his balance and fell backwards. Stan wanted to scream, but all he could do was stare in a mixture of shock and horror at the deformed man, if he could even call it that.

"N-no balls!" he gasped.

It had to have been some kind of lab experiment, a failed attempt at a clone. Or something like that. 

_"But if that's the case, why would he keep it?"_ Stan thought.

The whole lab experience was as freaky as it was, but this only sealed it. He had to get out of this place, fast, before something else came up.

_"No, wait a minute. If I leave now and forfeit, I become the laughingstock of the entire seme-faction. But-..."_

He got up, staring at the pod once more. _"If I stay here, with this creepy thing, who knows what it'll do when it wakes up? No, that's IF it wakes up! If it even can. And if I can just sneak out of here, how would Craig and the others know?"_

Stan paused. No, Craig would find out. Somehow. Heck, he probably even planned the whole thing out, possibly put cameras around the place, or had some of his friends act as guards outside. Or was probably hidden out there somewhere himself.

"Why am I even thinking about this? If I just leave this freak alone and get out of here, there won't be a problem-" Stan thought aloud, as he turned to leave. He quickly stopped in his tracks, though, as he turned back to look at the cryopod.

"Just what the hell are those things?"

Stan went back to the pod, eyes still wide as he gazed at the seemingly genitalia-lacking man. His focus was on the two identical mounds that were part of the subject's chest.

"I wonder..." he trailed off, as he leaned over the cryopod. He hesitantly reached a hand out towards one of the lumps. One of his feet hit up against the bottom of the capsule, and a small clanking sound emitted.

Stan drew in his breath, wincing at the brief shot of pain in his foot. He moved his hand in closer, though it was shaking.

Only to freeze, his fingers a few inches away from the object, as the man stirred.

"Mm?"

Before Stan had time to react, the pair of eyes shot open. Steel gray irises met Stan's own blue ones, as the man blinked a bit, his sight coming into focus as he began to sit up.

Stan abruptly pulled away, as he regained his sense of movement, and did the only thing that came to mind.

"AAAAAAARRRRRGGHHHH!" he screamed, as he pointed at the man with the same hand he had tried to feel the lumps with.

The man let out a high-pitched screech in return, as he bolted up from the capsule.

Stan screamed again, this time louder, as he tried to run, but slipped on the floor and fell over.

The deformed 'lab project' looked over at the screaming and flailing Stan, and then down at his own nude body. He clapped his hands over the chest lumps, and screamed yet again.

"AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH!"

"YAAAAAAAGHH!"

"AAAAAAAARRRGHHHH!"

The screaming contest continued as Stan managed to get up and run. From the corner of his eye, he could now see that the...thing was scrambling out of its pod, hands still covering its abnormal chest.

"AAAAGH! STAY AWAY!" Stan yelled, as he ran towards the door.

"AIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

He gripped at the handle, grunting as he tried to push, and again, harder. But it wasn't budging.

_"Looks like I'm going to have to do this the other way!"_ he thought, as he panted, sweat rolling down his face as he tried to catch his breath.

He pulled at the long, hard object, grunting, as the door slid right open.

"AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEE!" _"Oh shit!._

Stan rushed out of the room, screaming once more, as he slammed the heavy door shut. Hopefully trapping the laboratory freak inside.

But that wasn't enough. It was decided now.

"I've got to get the hell out of here!" Stan cried, as he ran through the rest of the laboratory, looking back to see if the man had escaped to follow him. Though he currently found himself alone, there was no telling what else could be hiding out in the place.

Suddenly, one of the hanging skeletons fell and crashed down on him. Stan screamed, as he threw the skeleton off, and tore out of the building, his heart pounding and arms thrown up in the air.

His screams echoed throughout the silence of the night. He ran out the busted gateway, not looking back as he ran down the street, panting heavily.

Stan trudged, sweating and tired, through a shortcut in an alleyway, only to suddenly double over. He struggled to get back up, pressing a hand against a wall for balance.

Only to wind up vomiting all over the ground. "Damn it."

He got up, wiping his mouth, as he walked on. "Now I feel like crap." he muttered, as he approached the end of the alley.

And not only did Stan Marsh feel exhausted and sick, but the consequences of the choice he had just made quickly dawned on him, as he made his way back home.

_"Oh, goddamnit! Now I'm one of the ukes!"_

Back in the cryogenic testing room, the other "boy" sat on the wet floor, "his" legs crossed and hands still covering "his" chest. "He" stared at the cryopod that "he" had risen from, and then at all the monitors and consoles.

"Where am I?" 'he' thought aloud, as "he" got up and brushed "his" hair back.

To be Continued...


	3. Humiliation

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, Comedy Central, Trey Parker, and Matt Stone do.

This chapter is another shoutout to Cerisa, who wrote the majority of it again, as well as fosff author "Kyle the Skeptic" who beta-read this chapter. It might note be as funny as the first chapter but I'll try to up the jokes for next chapter.

XXXXXXX

"What the hell was that thing?" Stan Marsh lay in bed, his eyes wide as he stared up at the ceiling. He had spent all night trying to get to sleep, though the images and memory of what he encountered in the cryogenic testing room just wouldn't go away. He'd tossed and turned in the bed as he attempted to relax, only to get entangled in his own sheets, which he had then pulled over his body and huddled under.

Hours after that, Stan had finally managed to get his eyes closed, only to be quickly 'woken up' by the rising sun, and then arrive at the state he was currently in. His hair was plastered to his neck, and his skin was clammy. As he crawled sluggishly out of bed, he stopped to look in the mirror. His brows furrowed, as he met his reflection. Some of his hair was now sticking up in a mostly 'un-semely' fashion, and his eyes were bloodshot and stinging from the lack of sleep.

"I look like Tweek." He brushed the wild hair back irritably, as he blinked and looked away. His body ached and his throat felt raw, but he knew there was no escaping the inevitable. He would have to face the other boys at school whether he wanted to or not.

Stan shivered, as the ice-cold water rained down. He now stood in the shower, his eyes focused on the drain as he sighed. "Why did I bother going through with that dare again? I knew something had to be wrong with that place, but I still went anyway. All to prove what, that I'm no different from the 'ass-ramees?'" He turned off the faucet, brows knit once more. "No, I did what they said. I went into that lab and spent the night there! Maybe not the whole night, but it should still count for something! I got myself into this mess, I took the dare, and I got myself out of it!"

As he slowly trudged to school, attempting to button his jacket correctly on the way, a small smile crept across his face. He stared ahead at the building, his tired eyes accentuated by the start of faint dark circles, as they opened wider. He had to look awake, no matter what.

His trudging broke into a run as he headed for the doorway. "If I can just pretend nothing happened last night, and that I stayed the whole night there, what they don't know won't hurt them. That's right, I spent the night at that dumb laboratory, and there was nothing special there at all! Nice try, Craig, but I'm stronger than that!" he thought as he laughed to himself. He grabbed a hold of the door handle, grinning.

"I'll show you all" As he swung the door open, he spotted Cartman and Kyle standing in the hallway, arguing loudly about something. Stan smiled to himself as he stepped inside. The two looked over at him, Kyle in the process of yelling back at Cartman. "Hey dudes! What's going on-" he began, grinning. "UKE!" a voice shouted out, cutting him off abruptly.

And right then, a torrent of putrid, stomach-turning brownish-green sludge, came pouring down all over Stan. "AAAUUGH!" he cried, as he lost his balance and fell to the floor, drenched in the disgusting concoction. The once-silent hallway now erupted into peals of mocking laughter, as students stopped what they were doing, while others poked their heads out of classrooms to see what was going on. Kenny peered over from the corner of an adjoining hall, as more boys ran past him.

"Wh-what the hell is this stuff!?" Stan gasped, as he scrunched his nose up and took a closer look at it. All he needed to see was a tail floating about in it to clue him in. Dead fish, and cream-chipped beef. "goddamnit!" Stan got up, wiping some slop off of his face. Only for someone to push him back down into the spreading puddle.

"Ha! I knew you couldn't do it!" Craig laughed, as he stood over Stan, arms folded as he sneered down at him. Stan groaned, as he got up from the floor, glaring at Craig as a fish head fell from his hair.

"H-how did you find out...?" Stan gasped, trailing off as Token, Clyde, and Jimmy appeared behind Craig, snickering. Clyde was holding on to a long piece of string, and as Stan's eyes followed it, he saw an emptied bucket lying on the floor from where it had fallen from its place at the top ridge of the doorway.

"Isn't it obvious?" Craig replied. "When some candy-ass like you is seen running the streets at night, screaming their head off like a scared little uke, word gets around the town!" he continued, looking back at Stan with an evil glint in his eye. Stan blushed furiously, as the laughter around him continued.

"That doesn't mean anything! You...you would've been scared too if you saw-" he tried to explain, but was drowned out by the ruckus. Kenny's eyes scanned the crowd, as he tried to get a good look at what was going on.

"Forget it," Stan muttered, as he pushed through the crowd, only to have streamers thrown in his face and party-blowers blown right in his ears. Food wrappers and crumpled-up balls of paper were hurled at him, and a few other boys slapped him on the back in mock 'celebration'.

Cartman squeezed an air horn. "HEADS UP!" he yelled.

As Stan turned to look over, a roll of toilet paper beaned him on the head.

"Figures you'd side with him!" Stan snapped, as he rubbed his head.

"With him? Pssh, I'm not on anyone's side! I just think you deserve to have that 'seme-smirk' wiped off your face!" Cartman replied.

Before Stan could reply, the bell rang out, and the crowd of hecklers began to disperse. Stan was left standing in the middle of the hall, still covered in the remnants of dead fish and cream-chipped beef. Cartman walked off, smirking, as Kyle glanced over at Stan and sighed. "Kyle, you're on my side, aren't you?" Stan asked.

"You didn't have to do it" Kyle answered, as he gathered his books.

"But he just had to!" Clyde piped up.

Stan's eyes narrowed. Craig, Clyde, Token, and Jimmy were standing at the end of the hallway. "What do they want now?" As Stan glared at the four, Kyle quietly made his leave.

"It's time for you to go guys, the seme-faker and I need to be alone now," Craig ordered the other three.

"Ooooohhh!" the other three chanted, and walked off, laughing. Another boy brushed past Stan and Craig, his face buried in a book as he turned the corner.

"How'd you find out, Craig?" Stan asked once more. Craig rolled his eyes.

"I said it before, word got out fast. Does it really matter how? All that's really important in the end is that I was right. You're not the seme-liest seme of them all, you're just a poser!" Stan opened his mouth to object, but Craig continued. "If you can't do the dare, if you can't prove your worth, you're nothing but a LOSER," he said plainly, and walked off. As Craig turned the corner, Kenny peered out of a broom closet, before drawing his head back in. A clatter was heard inside, followed by some cursing. 

XXXXXXX

Stan pulled at the faucet, grunting a bit. Steam drifted across the shower room floor, as the teen attempted to wash off the last bits of cream-chipped beef and rancid fish. "Damn it, he just had to have some way of finding out. I knew it." Stan moaned. The very smell of the slop they drenched him in was sickening enough, but the fact that it'd take a long time to get it out of his clothes, if ever, added insult to injury. Of course, stinky clothes were one thing. Having your honor as one of the 'real guys' thrown under the bus was another.

As Stan unsuccessfully attempted to dry himself off, clothes and all, in front of a blow-dryer, he turned around, only to be startled to see Kyle suddenly behind him. "I don't think that's going to work," Kyle said dryly. Stan looked back at the blow-dryer, and then at Kyle.

"How long was he standing there?" The raven-haired boy wondered. 

Kyle snapped out of his cool, dry persona to his surprised, embarrassed one. "I was supposed to keep track?" He asked, sincerely thinking that's what Stan asked.

XXXXXXXX

The two boys walked to the next class together. As Stan stopped to fiddle with his locker combination, Kyle stood by, watching.

"You know, Stan, even if you didn't run away, they would've found a way to make you screw up somehow. It's the way they are. Competitive-"

"GAAAAHH!" Stan shrieked, as he opened the locker, only to have a bunch of spring-loaded 'snakes' shoot out.

"-And he's one step ahead of you. Great." Kyle sighed.

Stan backed away from the snakes. "D-damn him! How'd he know my locker combination?"

"Cartman probably tipped him off. It'd be like him to be in on this." Kyle suggested, frowning. Stan groaned, as he slammed the locker door shut. Nearby, another boy was busy rifling through his own locker, his head buried in it.

"Stan?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, what?" Stan asked bitterly.

"You shouldn't worry so much about it. It'll blow over soon, once they decide to pick on Butters or someone like that-" Kyle said, as he put a hand on Stan's shoulder. Stan tensed up, blushing a bit.

"It's easy for you to say that I shouldn't worry, because you've always been an uke." Stan replied. Kyle glared, as he continued on.

"-That's not the point! Maybe you're an uke, maybe you're not, but for god's sake, does it really matter? Why do there have to be labels anyway? You shouldn't worry so much about what others think of you!"

"Says the one who challenged Craig and said he was the biggest seme of them all!" Stan spat, as he folded his arms.

"What!?" Kyle said, jumping with shock.

"You heard me, Kyle. You were the one who was stupid enough to say that!" Stan rolled his eyes as he explained.

"I did not say that, Stan-" The Jew was cut off quickly

"You're denying it, then?".

"I am not denying it!" Kyle snapped, as he moved in closer to Stan.

"Then what are you trying to say?" Stan interrogated, visibly and audibly frustrated.

"I didn't mean to say that I was the best seme, Stan. I meant someone else."

Stan blinked, as Kyle looked up at him. "What do you mean-?" he started to ask, only to fall silent.

"Stan, I-" Stan's eyes widened, as it dawned on him.

"He meant me?"

Kyle walked off, heading to the classroom. As Stan followed him, the other boy in the hall finally pulled his head out of his locker. Kenny approached, simply raising an eyebrow, as Christophe cursed under his breath.

The day passed by uneventfully. Well, mostly. During a history lesson, when the teacher just so happened to call on Stan to help bring down the map from the blackboard, what rolled down wasn't any kind of map. Instead, it was a blow-up of a rather crude stick-figure drawing, of what Stan assumed to be himself being penetrated by another, ridiculously-endowed stick figure, with the caption "Stan Marsh Is An Ass-Ramee" in rather bold, colorful letters.

When the final bell rang, Stan was relieved to finally be rid of the school, at least until the next day. He began walking the long way back home, as he reflected on the previous day and the whole 'seme' challenge that had caused him so much trouble. Though Kyle had started the mess by challenging Craig's superiority, he hadn't helped that matter much himself by butting in to save his friend's ass. "If only I could've just kept my big mouth shut," Stan thought aloud.

He thought he would've been able to handle the old abandoned laboratory, but once he discovered the cryogenic testing chamber, things took an even stranger turn. Stan shuddered as he recalled the blunders he made that led to the capsule being unfrozen, and then-

That..._thing_. That deformed man, the laboratory project. Whatever the hell it was, it was something he had never seen before, and had certainly hoped to never see again. But the nagging thoughts and memories of it just wouldn't go away. Stan groaned, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No. I'm not going back there. I'm not going back there!" he muttered to himself. "That caveman, or whatever the hell he was, already made things more complicated for me. If I go back, there's no telling what he'll do to me!" He paused in thought. "damn it Stan, suck it up. You left him in that room! If he escaped, it would've made the news. There's no way a freak like that could pass by unnoticed in this town!"

Great. His thoughts were once again on that monster. "I wonder if he's even still alive?" Stan asked himself. "Nah, couldn't be. He probably starved or got scared to death of the place." Stan looked around. "Only one way to find out, then" he sighed. 

XXXXXXXXX

The lab shouldn't have been as creepy the second time around, as it was still light outside, but nevertheless, it still gave Stan chills as he passed the cages of dead animals once more. He nearly tripped over a busted fish tank, while the skeletons of several tiny fish lay on the floor. He could see what appeared to be the remains of tied-in bunny ears, but he brushed that thought aside.

He drew in a breath, as he approached the familiar door. He slid it open, as he closed his eyes. He stepped inside, exhaled, and prepared to open them. What he didn't expect to see was the 'man' sitting on the floor, staring at the cryopod.

"Okay. Okay. Don't scream. Don't scream." he thought, as he began sweating once more. The 'man' suddenly turned around, 'his' eyes meeting Stan's. "AAAAAGHH!" Stan started to yell. The 'man' bolted up, an irritated look on 'his' face.

"You!" 'he' cried. Stan blinked, as he noticed something different about the other 'male' than before.

'He' was no longer naked. Instead, 'he' was now wearing a violet jacket, and a pair of bright yellow pants. As Stan stared the other 'male' up and down, he noticed that 'he' was now wearing a pink beret atop 'his' head. Stan pointed at 'him' in confusion, his jaw dropped as he stared once more at the odd lumps on the 'man's chest.

"Wh-what are those things!?" Stan stammered. The other 'man' gave him an odd look in return.

"What things!?" 'he' snapped, 'his' voice oddly high-pitched and childish for a male of approximately eighteen. Suddenly, Stan planted a hand down on each lump.

"These!"

"You pervert!" the strange one screeched, as 'he' pushed Stan off.

"Pervert?" Stan repeated, confused.

"Th-that's right! Are you deaf or something!? You, you just can't touch me like that!" The 'boy' said with barely restrained anger.

"Ah, uh, I'm sorry about that, dude!" Stan laughed nervously.

"You should be!" the 'man' lashed back.

"No, really, I am. I just, uh, I didn't know you had your balls up on your chest!" Stan tried to explain, as he motioned to the other's chest. The 'man' glared. "Oh shit," Stan realized, as the well-earned slap came all too quickly.

"How dare you! You sick freak!" the shorter 'male' screamed.

"Those things aren't balls?" Stan asked sheepishly. The other backed away, glaring at him.

"Just stay away from me! Whatever you want with me, I'm not going to give it to you!" 'He' shrieked, as he backed against a wall.

Stan moved closer to the other 'boy' (he couldn't be that much older, he figured), who only tried to squirm away.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you!" he whispered.

"That's what they all say!" the 'boy' shouted, only for Stan to suddenly take hold of 'his' hands.

"H-hey!"

"Look, man, I said I was sorry. It's just that, well, I've never seen any guy like you before," Stan said, as he looked into the other 'boy's eyes. "Wait a minute, what are you anyway?" Stan asked, puzzled.

The other 'male' stared at him, 'his' eyes wide. "Wait a minute! You've got to be kidding me! You've never seen anything like me!?"

"Uh, yeah, isn't that what I said?" Stan said innocently as he stared back.

"That can't be..." the other trailed off, as 'he' shook 'his' head.

"So then, what are you?" The 'boy' looked up.

"That's an easy question. I'm a girl!" The person said as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe.

Stan only had a blank expression on his face in response to that answer. "A...girl?"

"What!? You've never seen a girl before? What kind of world do you live in?" the other yelled, looking even more confused.

It was Stan's turn to act confused. "No. I've never seen this 'girl' before. Am I supposed to know what it is?" he asked. A pair of gray eyes only widened in response.

"O-o-of cou-." The self-proclaimed 'girl' halted mid-sentence and started to pinch the bridge of her nose as if it contained a secret headache deactivation device. "I...I don't remember," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Remember what?" Stan asked cautiously.

"Anything." She replied, almost scared by her own answer.

"You don't remember anything?" Stan re-asked.

"Geez! What are you, a parrot?" She asked moodily. However, the annoyance on her face immediately shifted back to a sad, confused face. Whatever this "girl" was, it was moodier than any human being was capable of being. "I...I guess that was uncalled for." She said; the apologetic tone in her voice sincere.

"Well just stop letting prose describe your tone of voice and it'll be okay," Stan said trying to comfort her. He barely stopped himself from putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, still subconsciously thinking she would rip his arm off and eat it in front of him.

"Well, I guess it might help." She said as she relaxed a little. She then brought her head around, scanning her environment. "I suppose you'll help a lady in need and get me out of here?"

"What's a lady?" Stan asked, honestly concerned.

"Me," She said simply.

"But you just told me you were a girl."

"I am," The girl answered simply.

"But you just said-."

"They're synonyms!" The girl...lady...whatever rushed through her lips.

"Well pick with one and stick it!" Stan ordered, annoyed.

"Well, what would you like to be called? 'Boy' or 'man,' pick one!" The girl countered.

"You have a point." Stan admitted, defeated. "But before we get to name-calling, my name's Stan, Stan Marsh," he replied. He paused for a second, a look of realization dawning upon him. "What's your name? Do you have one?"

The girl paused, lost in thought for about three seconds.

"Wendy...Wendy Testaburger," was her reply.

"...What kind of name is Wendy?" Stan asked; brow visibly cocked.

"A girl's name!" Wendy answered in frustration.

"What the hell's you're problem? It was just a question!" Stan said defensively.

"Never mind, let's just get out of here," Wendy said, marching past Stan and to the door.

Stan pondered the other thing "Wendy" said. "Testaburger?" What was that? Was it a family name? Were there more girls like this one? Was she really an experiment here? A million questions a minute was too much for Stan's sleep-deprived mind, so he cut their flow off quickly and dashed until he was up to "Wendy's" side.

"Wait a minute!" Stan warned, stopping Wendy in her tracks immediately.

"Yes?" Wendy inquired.

"Are you sure you want to go out there looking like...well, that?" Stan said gesturing to Wendy. Whether he was pointing to her unusual apparel or the body underneath was unclear, but even with what Stan could guess was heavy winter clothing, he could still see an outward curve in the chest area, reminding Stan what was underneath.

"I see your point," Wendy remarked before sweeping her eyes over the cryo-room. "But I'll be damned if I stay in this funhouse another minute!" She said, shivering slightly. During this time, Stan couldn't help but look at her chest again and wonder aloud...

"So...if those aren't balls, what are they?"

Stan was rewarded with an echoing smack that seemed to shake the whole room.

Unbeknownst to the two parties, as the world seemed to turn to shades of gray, a man in a business suit and finely combed hair leaned with his back to the cryo-chamber door. He gazed ahead with eyes that seemed to shatter the fourth wall itself, and a neutral, if faintly smug expression punctuating that countenance. His arms were crossed over his waist and a lit cigarette was clenched between his fingers as smoke whipped from it and rose into the air.

"Stanley Marsh just wanted to be the most popular boy in school, and as you know popularity must be earned. Last night this boy failed to learn that popularity, instead, unearthing something that would shatter the foundations of the quaint mountain town of South Park. Now in addition to the pressures of academia, Stan is charged with protecting the biological enigma that is a 'woman.' It's the kind of Herculean task that can only be accomplished...in the Twilight Zo-."

SLAM!

The man was then flipped against the wall, as the door flung open and a fuming Wendy Testaburger stomped out of the room in disgust. Stan followed close behind her, a red palm-shaped mark covering his left cheek.

'What have I gotten myself into?' The boy mentally whined.

To Be Continued...


	4. Solid Wendy

South Park is the property of Trey Parker and Matt Stone. Cerisa and I co-wrote this chapter and divvied up the work a bit more equally than the last three.

I'd like to apologize to all of our readers for this lengthy delay. In addition to general laziness, I forgot to copy and paste the portion of this chapter leeor sent me before I went out for spring break and my laptop had no internet connection. Furthermore, I couldn't put it onto a floppy drive because I didn't now if or how I could do that on my laptop. Oh well, what matters is it's updated right? I'll try not to leave you hanging again.

And BMuffin, for ambiguity's sake: "Wait and see"

XXXXXXXX

"So NOW what are we going to do?"

"Uh, let me think about that."

The mysterious 'girl', Wendy Testaburger, sighed as she and Stan walked out through the gateway that lead to the run-down laboratory. The raven-haired boy (whose handsome shade of hair color matched his sexy masculinity) still wasn't used to the strange sight of anyone other than one of the male sex, and he especially didn't count on discovering that such a thing as a 'girl' existed through his own mistake. And she definitely hadn't made his dilemma any easier.

"Are you done thinking yet?" Wendy asked, as she scowled at him.

"Hey, it's a lot harder than you'd think!" Stan sighed, irritation audible in his tone, as the red palm-imprint from earlier still could be seen on his face. He touched it, and flinched. "Ow! You know, that really hurt!" he groaned.

"Just what are you thinking about?" Wendy pried further.

"Well, how we can sneak out of here and through town without causing a scene, for one," Stan replied, pointing out in the direction of the rest of South Park.

"What are you saying? What do you mean that I'll-" Wendy began, but was cut off.

"-If people see you, you'll end up sticking out. No one's ever seen, well, a "girl" or anything like you before. That and I have enough problems as it is without being seen with someone like you. That outfit is already weird enough!" Stan explained, as he motioned to Wendy's choice of clothing.

"Well, I don't see anything wrong with it!" she snapped, crossing her arms stubbornly.

Stan looked away, as he thought once more, "Damn it, what'd I get myself into!?"

"Wait a minute!" Wendy spoke up, as she looked confused.

"What?" Stan asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Just where are we going anyway? Did you plan that out?"

Stan turned to face the raven-haired girl again. "Do you know where you live?"

"WHAT!? What kind of question is that? O-of course I know where I live! I, I-" Wendy stammered. She then hung her head. "-I don't remember" she replied quietly.

"Okay, I know where we're going then!" Stan said as he grabbed hold of her arm. Wendy froze, as she blushed a bit.

"You do...?" she trailed off.

"Come on, let's go! I've got a plan now." he smirked as he began running.

"Wait, what kind of plan?" Wendy cried. "How long was I frozen in there anyway?" she thought, but that was momentarily cut off as she picked up her pace to avoid being pulled along.

"A disguise!" Stan replied, venturing to a dumpster at the side of the lab.

"What will we find here!?" Wendy asked.

"The most convincing disguise in the world!" Stan answered. Wendy couldn't even begin to guess what he'd find though.

Stan got on his knees and sifted through the garbage pile next to an overflowing dumpster. As he shoved overstuffed black bags out of the way, he looked carefully for anything tan.

"Eureka!" Stan said coolly and quietly as he stumbled just on what he was looking for.

"What is it?" He heard Wendy ask from behind him.

"Like I said, only the greatest disguise in the world!" He said as he turned around, carrying something large, cumbersome, yet strangely light.

There was an awkward pause. Wendy was silent for a moment, her face creased by a slight frown of confusion.

"...You want me to hide under _that?_" She asked in an almost neutral, if incredulous tone.

Stan plopped the object on the ground, somewhat pleased with himself.

"Of course, no one will suspect a thing. All you have to do is-."

"Hide under that." Wendy finished. It was obviously a statement and not a question. If Stan was trying to calm her down by making her laugh, it wasn't working.

"Trust me on this Wendy, it'll work." He said reassuringly.

Wendy looked between Stan, the disguise, and the gates leading out of the lab. She then looked back at the disguise, Stan, back at the gate. Then returned to the disguise, Stan, the disguise again, the gate, Stan, the gate again, the disguise, and finally, Stan.

She promptly collapsed from moving her head around too much.

"Holy crap, are you all right!?" Stan exclaimed as she rushed to the freshly thawed girl's side.

"It's okay. I just got a little dizzy," Wendy said as she raised herself up somewhat on her elbows.

"What about the disguise, what do you want to do about that?" Stan asked as she took her hands and lifted her back into a standing position.

Wendy returned her gaze to the rather outlandish choice of camouflage, if there was any time to make a choice, it was now.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Stan casually walked home, seemingly alone amongst the handful of people walking the streets and his face as ostensibly neutral as ever.

At this time of day, there wasn't much traffic, foot or vehicle-wise. Still, a handful of people walked around the streets, going about their varied businesses. That was likely as clear as it would get though. He turned his head slightly to see if Wendy was following.

All he really saw was a cardboard box that idled near the curb...but as soon as someone passed it, the container seemed to hover off the ground and bob its way towards Stan. The boy didn't flinch at this site, instead scanning the rest of the streets for _other_ unusual sights.

He turned his head back to his front only to encounter a man just a body length away from himself. He hopped off to the side as the man, barely aware of his surroundings, tread past. Stan kept moving until he remembered something...

Wendy's box was still back there. No obstacles blocked it from view, Stan could see from here that it was in plain sight, and no doubt the person could either. She had stopped moving, but that wouldn't mean a thing if he bumped into the container and moved it, giving away what was under there.

"Huh?" The man said noticing the innocuous package in the middle of the sidewalk. One could almost see the question mark materialize above his head.

Stan froze, he pretended to look mildly interested, but he was panicked. If that guy found out what was under there, the consequences would be...wait, would the consequences be anyway. Sure, a "girl" wasn't something you saw every day, but now that he thought about it...Wait, _of course_ no one had seen a girl _any_ day, _ever_. Considering how he reacted when he first saw her, things would not be pleasant for anyone involved, period.

The suspicious man came within a hair's breadth of the cardboard container and seemed to stare into its soul, scanning it with a blank expression. His insight took in every detail, its placement, position, the angle in which it was left, how close it was to his route, and other innocuous details. When his mental and visual evaluation ended, his brain kicked in and discerned the one, true, conclusion.

"It's just a box." The man said insightfully to no one in particular.

He moved on, leaving the box behind and not even turning his head when footsteps emanated from its position.

Stan let his breath go and watched as the box-clad Wendy tip-toed back to him and continued their route home.

XXXXXXXX

"You know, this is really embarrassing," Wendy muttered from insider the box as she slowly followed Stan down a street. A muffled "Ow" could be heard from the box, as she tripped slightly.

"Well, I didn't hear you give any ideas!" Stan said, looking a tad annoyed as he looked at the box from the corner of his eye. "It's the best thing I could think of, and you didn't seem to complain about it earlier!" he continued.

Wendy huddled in the dark confines of the cardboard, silently glared as she continued tip-toeing. "Where are we going anyway?" she asked, speaking up suddenly as she stopped in her tracks. Stan's eyes scanned the area as he also stopped, making sure no one else was around.

"My place," he answered, matter-of-factly. There was only silence from the box. "Well, you don't remember where you lived right?" Stan explained as he turned back and resumed walking. "It's the only place I can think of to keep you hidden-."

A muffled _"What?"_ was heard from the box. Stan drew breath nervously as he looked around.

"SHHH!" he hissed, sweating a bit. "Where else are you going to go?" he continued.

An old hobo wandering the streets paused as he saw the raven-haired teen, seemingly mumbling to himself with a large box behind him. The bum stared at the sight with a quizzical expression, and shrugged as he walked off, mumbling, "Kids today," under his breath.

Stan bit his lip and exhaled. "You've given me a lot of trouble, you know?" he said. He wasn't sure if Wendy heard her or not but he kept moving. Her box continued to follow him, stopping momentarily along the way.

As he went down another street to make a shortcut in the route, Stan froze in his tracks. A boy with thick, wool-like hair was being pushed around by his blonde, apparent "semefriend," as the two stood on the sidewalk. "I hate your guts. I hate your guts so much-" the taller male said, as he proceeded to attack the other's mouth with his tongue, forcing him to the ground.

Stan winced as he averted his eyes. "Can't you two just get a room already?" he shouted. Stan was used to seeing other men make out in public, though some, like the two he currently saw, just seemed to like doing it anywhere and _everywhere._ It was maddening!

The taller one stopped, a "deer in the headlights expression on his face as he turned around, but then laughed dryly. "Oh, it's only YOU." He sneered.

"Who is it Mike?" the other boy asked as he got up.

"Oh, no one, it's just 'Stan Marsh the Ass-Ramee!'" Mike snickered, his wild eyes narrowed at his target.

Stan glared back at the two. "Mike, Nathan...will you just let it go already you guys?" he groaned. The two paused, with serious expressions as they sat, seemingly deep in thought. They looked at each other, and then at Stan.

"No," Nathan answered, as Mike pushed him back to the ground and the two went back to their make-out session.

Stan shoved his hands in his pockets and walked off, his face reddening a bit. Wendy's box silently followed behind him once more. _"We must really be in the clear now," _Stan thought as he looked ahead at the empty surroundings.

Stan cleared his throat and then spoke up. "How are you doing?" he asked as he looked back at the box.

"How do you _think_ I'm doing?" came Wendy's muffled reply.

"I guess not that well?" Stan shrugged.

From inside the box, Wendy sighed a bit as she brushed some hair out of her face. "How far is your home from here anyway?"

Stan grinned as he pointed down the street. "Not that far, we'll be there soon."

Wendy blinked, as a slight smile appeared on her face. _"Finally."_

"So who do you live with?" she asked as the two went on with their route.

"Oh, just my dad..." Stan answered, looking straight ahead.

"You don't have any brothers or sisters?"

Stan stared blankly in confusion. "Um, nope...I don't."

"Oh? Then what about your mother?" Wendy raised an eyebrow as she shifted in the box slightly.

There was nothing but silence. Wendy sighed. "I'm sorry then," she said as she slowed down.

"For what?" Stan asked once more, confused.

Wendy's eyes widened. _"Wait, that's right. He was frightened when he saw me. Because I was a 'girl' and he said he never saw one before. I guess he never saw his mother"_ she thought, as a bead of sweat rolled down. "Nothing," she spoke aloud.

As the two arrived in front of the house, Stan lifted up the doormat, and took out a key from underneath it. He held it up, as it glinted a bit. "Alright."

He went to put it in the door, but suddenly hesitated. "_Wait, I managed to get her this far, but how will I get her inside?"_

Stan stared back at the box. _"Of course, it might be hard, but it just may work."_ He stepped over to the box cautiously, and then proceeded to kick it over.

"Hey!" Wendy shrieked, but before she could protest more, Stan shoved her into the overturned box and slammed the flaps down.

"That's not funny!" she cried. Stan ignored her, as he went to slide the key into the door. The door abruptly swung open, catching him off guard.

"Waaaghhh!" he yelled as he stumbled backwards and fell to the ground beside the box. Wendy stopped squirming inside it and fell silent.

"STAAAAANNN! You're finally home son!" a gaudily-dressed, moustache-sporting raven-haired man cried out.

Stan looked up at his father, trying to keep his cool, as he got to his feet. "Hey dad."

"STAAAAN!" The mustachioed geologist repeated, hugging his teenaged son a little too enthusiastically. "I was wondering why you were so late from school!" He said as he broke the hug. "Where have you been?"

"Out," Stan replied sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"Doing what?"

"Doing stuff...you do when you're out," Stan replied, suddenly finding himself at a loss for excuses.

A beat...

"Oh that stuff!" Randy exclaimed. "About time you start doing that stuff, you could use the 'exercise,'" He said in an unwittingly cryptic fashion.

It was about then he noticed the big brown thing behind Stan.

"Hey Stan, I just noticed that big brown thing behind you," Randy stated.

"Oh did you?" Stan said turning his attention to the box. His worry spiked up that his typically 'slow' father was suddenly this observant.

"What's in it?" Randy asked approaching the box casually, blissfully unaware that the greatest biological find of the millennium was tucked away inside.

"It's nothing!" Stan said as he conspicuously rushed between his father and the container.

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, it's for a school project," Stan said, not thinking straight under the pressure.

"But...you just said it was nothing," Randy stated.

"Uh yeah, it's a philosophy class project," Stan exclaimed sheepishly, chiding himself for coming up with such retarded excuses. "The project is about how nothing can come from something!" Stan said with a mask of exaggerated pride.

"O...kay," Randy began, understandably confused. "Isn't that an uke's class?"

"Damn it Dad! I get enough of that in school!"

"Sure, sure, whatever son," He said before returning his attention to the cardboard box in the snow. "Want me to bring it in?"

Uh, no...that's okay, I can get it myself!" Stan said as he grabbed a hold of the box and tried to lift it...It hardly moved from the ground.

"Sorry, just need to...assume the position," He grunted, trying to lift the container with his knees. Wendy looked relatively slim for her "human-ish" body, but she still had to be at least a hundred and ten pounds...one hundred-fifty at most. Not to mention all the uneven weight.

Stan froze slightly when he heard a grunt of someone hitting their head and knew he tipped the girl in the wrong direction. It was a small wonder she didn't end up kicking out her legs or arms and end up opening the box.

"Come on Stan, I'll help you get it up," Randy said as he grabbed the other end of the box. "Lift with your legs, then your back," He ordered.

Stan was a little unnerved to have his Dad this close to the box, but seeing as he had no other choice.

"Heave...Ho!" They both said in unison as the box lifted from the snow.

Now in a nearly upright position, the athletic Stan and the geologist began to work their way to the door.

"This...is awfully heavy for nothing isn't it?" Randy's observation wasn't a question, it was a statement, and Stan knew it. As they hobbled through the front door, Stan came up with an answer.

"It's one of those...super dense heavy cardboard boxes they store s-..." He paused, trying to come up with an explanation for his gullible father. "s-s-se-beh-el," He stuttered, trying to think of something reasonable to pack into such a container "...elbow grease in," He finished.

Randy paused for a moment, quizzical.

"Elbow grease?"

"Yeah, and headlight fluid too," Stan added, hoping his Dad would fall for it. "Those liquids are way too heavy to be carried around in any other box." He even nodded to the box approvingly, hoping it would make the act look more convincing.

Another beat...

"Headlight fluid?" Randy asked quizzically.

"Yep," Stan asked, trying not to falter.

A third beat...

"If you say so." Randy said before being interrupted by the horn of a car.

"Ooooh! Stan, I forgot to tell you," Randy answered sheepishly as he hastily set down the box, crushing Stan's hands in the process.

"ARGH!" Stan exclaimed as he felt the cardboard press down on eight of his ten fingers.

"I promised Gerry-kins that I'd take him to the mall today! I gotta get goin' with the flowin'!" He exclaimed in a much more energetic manner, now leaping and prancing his way to the door. "I'm sure you can get yourself dinner."

"Dad, wai-" Stan interrupted himself upon realizing his father leaving was the best thing that could possibly happen for the time being.

"No time! Toodles Stan!" Randy says as he hopped through the door, across the snow covered lawn, and finally, headfirst through Gerald Broflovski's van window...

...Or at least he would have if his window wasn't rolled up.

BANG!

"AUGH!" Randy said as gravity pulled him away from the door and face down on the slush covered sidewalk. "Aulgh! Phlthffft!" He said through the slush that made it into his mouth.

Suddenly, the window rolled down, and Gerald called from the driver's seat.

"Ooooh, Randy-kins, I'm _so_ sorry! I just got those windows clean and didn't think you-" The Jewish lawyer's apology was cut off as Randy leapt to his feet like nothing ever happened.

"Eh, people make mistakes Gerald, just look at our President!" The geologist said as he leapt into the air and slid feet first into the windows, plopping himself into the seat...and banging his head on the windowsill. "AUGH! Come on Geraldo, I don't think your car likes me."

"Oh Randy," Gerald said in mock frustration.

The gear shifted and the car began to roll down the street.

"So, how's little Stanley doing?" Gerald inquired.

"Eh, he just brought home a huge box full of porn, judging from how skittish he was."

"What did you do about it?" Gerald asked again.

"I played dumb and let him get away with it. He's a grown seme now! It's perfectly normal for him," Randy answered.

Randy's side hit a pothole once the car had reached twenty miles an hour.

Stan heard a faint "AUGH!" coming down the street from the direction the car had gone. Sighing, the boy did an about face and shut the door behind himself.

"The coast's clear," Stan informed the box. He heard faint groaning and cursing as Wendy struggled to get out of her cardboard prison. Finally, she burst free of the box, glaring at him, her hair a mess.

"Elbow grease and headlight fluid?" she muttered, as she blew some hair out of her face, her eyes narrowing in disgust.

He shrugged. "It was all I could think of."

XXXXXXXXX

"Your dad really seems to have gotten over your mom," Wendy stated, as the two walked up the stairs. Stan turned around with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"Ugh, never mind," Wendy groaned. "What I want to know is how you're going to hide _me_ out here-" she continued, only to stop in the hallway, as she eyed the number of rooms. "What's that one for?"

"Oh, that's the guest room," Stan replied.

"So...that's where I'm going to be staying?"

"No."

"WHY THE HELL NOT!?" Wendy shrieked.

"Because it would be too suspicious!" Stan shouted back.

"So you're saying that I'm going to be in _your_ room," Wendy stated, not asked.

"Yeah, is there something wrong with that?" Stan shot back defensively.

Wendy sighed. "No, there isn't. Sorry," she apologized, pressing a hand against her forehead. She looked up at him, as her eyes set into a glare. "But don't try anything funny with me!" she seethed.

"Believe me, I won't." Stan shuddered, recalling the memory of seeing her strange, nude body in the capsule. His face flushed red as Wendy raised an eyebrow.

"Okay. So what's your plan now?" she asked softly. Stan pointed in the direction of what she supposed was his room.

XXXXXXXXX

Stan stood in front of his open closet, grinning. Wendy backed away, shocked, as her eyes stared into it. _"Oh no!"_

"I figured it all out. How you can stay around in town without calling attention to yourself...and me," he explained.

"A-another disguise!?" she stammered in disbelief. Stan nodded.

"I'm going to be a _guy_," Wendy said dryly.

"That's right!"

Wendy groaned. "And how are you going to explain it to your dad, huh?" she continued.

"Trust me, I can think of a way. I managed to get you past him earlier," was his reply. Wendy sighed, and turned back to face Stan, only to find him staring straight at her in an odd way.

_"WHAT!?"_ she shrieked.

"Aren't you going to get dressed now?" he asked, motioning to the closet.

"Well not with you in the room!" Wendy snapped, backing into the clothes that were hanging up.

"Why not? I don't see what the problem is!" the raven-haired boy said, only to notice the 'death glare' she gave him.

"You don't see the _problem!?_ I'm not going to undress in front of you! You'd like to see me naked again, is that it!?" she howled, as Stan took a step closer.

"What!? Th-that's not true!" he gasped.

"Don't think I'm that stupid, Stan. Even if you've really never seen a girl before, you'd still be wanting to see what's under here!" Wendy motioned to her chest, her eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

"Actually, I wouldn't." Stan sighed.

"Then why don't you get out of here and let me have my privacy to change, then?" Wendy needled him, as she stepped forward.

"Sorry, I can't do that."

"And why not!?"

"Because, this is my room," Stan asserted, as he held a finger up. "And if you don't want me to see you naked, you don't have to strip down all the way!" he went on, as he pointed at her. Wendy blushed, as she looked down at herself.

"I see. Fine then," she pouted, turning back to face the closet.

Stan collapsed back on to his bed, yawning a bit, as Wendy started unbuttoning her jacket. _"Ugh. Maybe he does have a point," _she thought, as her hands moved further down. She slid it off, revealing a simple pink T-shirt underneath. Stan's eyebrows raised a bit as she went to take it off as well.

The pants were next. Stan tried to avert his eyes, feeling his face flush as he did. _"Don't stare at it. Don't stare," _he chanted mentally, trying to keep his cool as the pink panty-clad rear end came into view. _"Strawberry print?"_ He buried his head in his pillow.

Wendy, meanwhile, put on a pair of white jeans, having already slid one of Stan's shirts on. Stan looked up from the pillow, blinking a bit. "You done?"

Wendy turned around, as she put on a white vest. "Yeah. What do you think?" she asked, motioning to the outfit. Stan bolted up.

"No," he objected, narrowing his eyes. Wendy stood there, in the white jeans and vest, wearing a long-sleeved magenta shirt underneath that was emblazoned with a large white star, and sporting a pair of goggles. "No? Why not-" she began to ask, baffled.

"Dude! That's one of my FAVORITES!" Stan cried, motioning to it.

"So what? You're not going to share!?" the raven-haired girl huffed, as she slid the goggles on over her eyes.

"I was thinking of wearing that tomorrow!" Stan's voice raised, as some sweat ran down his face. Wendy rolled her eyes.

"You don't have that good of a taste then," she murmured, taking the goggles off.

"It wouldn't cover you enough anyway!" Stan shouted, ignoring the remark.

"Ugh, fine then," Wendy grunted, as she began changing out of the clothes.

Stan's eyes widened as he watched her model the next outfit. It was a sleeveless mesh top and a pair of black leather pants.

"Nah," Stan managed to get out.

"Definitely not," Wendy agreed, blushing at it herself. _"Don't tell me he thinks that looks trendy!" _

"This convincing enough?" she asked, now modeling a long-sleeved white shirt and baggy jeans.

Stan stared for a bit, then uttered, "Too plain."

"Hmm, how about this!?" It was a white suit jacket and matching pants, with a light blue shirt underneath.

"Too pastel," Wendy sighed, as she went back to the closet.

"This?" She wore a plaid hoodie sweatshirt and khaki bellbottoms.

_"What was I thinking!?" _Stan cringed, as he felt like slapping himself.

"Hey, Stan?" After modeling several other outfits and having grown increasingly tired after each one was vetoed, Wendy was now wearing a simple pair of jeans and a long-sleeved white dress shirt with a gray sweater vest worn over it. Stan blinked, as he got up from the bed. Wendy motioned to the outfit boredly, as her eyelids drooped a bit in drowsiness.

"Yeah, that looks fine," Stan yawned. "But what are you going to do about that hair?" he added, as he focused on the multitude of jet-black hair that hung nearly to her waist.

"Oh, that? I'll think of something," she said, as her eyes scanned over a hat rack in the closet. She smirked, as she took off her pink beret, and exchanged it for a red one on the rack. "I can tuck my hair into it or something," Wendy explained, as she set it on her head.

"What? You mean you're not cutting-?" Stan began to ask, only to see the stubborn look on Wendy's face and fall silent.

_"He really must be mad," _she thought.

"Okay, hiding the hair could work too!" Stan shrugged, as Wendy removed a gray-blue winter jacket from a hanger and pulled it on over the dress shirt and vest.

_"What kind of fashion sense does she have?" _Stan gawked, wondering how a 'girl' like Wendy could dress the way she did. It would make sense if she was one of the types that didn't care too much about fashion, but from what he saw, he had placed her as being similar to the overreactive, highly-emotional and fashion-sensitive 'ukes' at his school. Heck, though he found it a stretch to consider, her 'guy' fashion sense could possibly even be 'seme'.

Whether this was just Wendy or if it applied to all girls, Stan had no way of knowing. Was Wendy a "seme" or "uke?" Was there even an equivalent for these strange humanoids?

Maybe he should save those questions for some other time.

"I guess that's settled," Wendy said in a somewhat exhausted tone. "Now what do we do from here?"

Stan gave this question a thought. What would he do with Wendy from here? He didn't want to leave the girl to her own devices. She seemed irritable, though ultimately non-threatening. On the other hand, she also probably didn't want to be alone in this world she most definitely seemed unfamiliar with. Of all times to have school tomorr-...

It was risky, but somehow, he couldn't resist the idea.

"I have an idea," Stan stated.

"What'd that be?"

"Well..." Stan began. "I hope this doesn't seem too much more demanding but..."


End file.
